It’s Saturday night at 8:30 and I’m a little blah. Hubby’s not home (dude, you left for the shop at 2pm and it’s 8:30 and not even a call about dinner? Thanks!) and I’ve been working on an article about Medieval Warhorses all afternoon. Reading and noting and reading and noting and outlining…now I’m at the writing poing and my brain is bleeding so a break is necessary.

Saw Wanted today, because I adore Angelina Jolie. I’m not sorry about it either: the woman rocks, and she’s occasionally weird and doesn’t apologize for it. Yay for her! But unfortunately, this particular flick wasn’t as captivating as hers usually are for me (nor as empowering, I might say). Yeah. I prolly could’ve waited for it on video…

I’m unhappy at work, but I’m afraid to do anything about it. Terrified really. I wonder soemtimes if I’ll be stuck in the life I’ve allowed to form around me without ever taking control of it myself. Will I be 80 tomorrow and regret that the only thing I had the guts to follow through on is my love life? It’s wonderful and hard and confusing and exciting, but love isn’t all there is to fulfillment, is it? Or maybe it is and there’s something wrong with me for wanting more. maybe there’s something wrong with me for wanting something more exciting than what “normal” people need. I need a little adventure in my life, I guess. *sigh* I just don’t think I should feel old at 30. Things need to change.

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